Dresses are a Man's Best Friend
by artificiallynatural
Summary: He would never openly admit it but yes, he liked it quite a bit. Jimmy could pull off women's clothing very well indeed.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Dresses are a Man's Best Friend**

**Pairing: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent**

**Rating: NC-17**

**Warnings: explicit m/m content; cross dressing**

**Notes: Apologies for the cringe-worthy title, haha. This little story branches off from/was inspired by the insanely talented Gigi_Sinclair's haute couture on ao3. I highly recommend it!**

* * *

"Your...obsession is becoming quite alarming," Thomas said, eyes utterly fixated upon the man in front of him. He sat in the wooden chair by his desk, a smoldering cigarette held near his mouth.

Jimmy merely smirked and turned in a full circle. The motion sent ruffled lace fanning out about his body, delicately swishing into place when he paused, a slight cock to his hips. "You like it."

Thomas arched a brow, feigning indifference. He would never openly admit it but yes, he liked it quite a bit. Jimmy could pull off women's clothing very well indeed. The radiant blond in question donned a white dress, his waist outlined perfectly as the plunging neckline tapered to a fitting pinch, ivory bodice stretched tightly over his chest. Underneath, a layered skirt swept out above his knees, webbed with delicate designs made of a lacy material that provided a startling but attractive contrast to his golden skin. Thomas had naught a clue how Jimmy managed to procure the intricate and definitely feminine apparel; he certainly learned long ago to cease asking. He waved a hand in the air, dismissing Jimmy's confident reply.

Jimmy took it as an invitation to not-so-daintily plop himself down in Thomas's lap. He wound his arms around the other man's neck and the beginnings of a smile quirked at his lips. "Aren't I one of the loveliest creatures you've ever seen, though?"

The under-butler brought his cigarette between his lips and puffed it thoughtfully, his calm exterior masking the how his senses were going into overdrive. Jimmy's warm body had a citrusy fragrance about him, crisp and enticing. Thomas exhaled upward, dusting the air with the silvery smoke. "No."

Jimmy frowned, eyebrows furrowed inquisitively. He plucked Thomas's cigarette from its perch, ready to hold it captive until the older man surrendered. "Beg your pardon? Because while you may remain stoic with your tone of distaste, your, ah... shall we say, more physical attributes imply otherwise." His mouth widened into a triumphant grin.

"Not 'one of', but _the_, m'love," Thomas murmured, leaning in to gently mouth at Jimmy's exposed shoulder. "You are _the_ loveliest creature I've ever had the pleasure of viewing."

"Mmm," Jimmy hummed, raising the cigarette to take a drag. He felt a tingling sensation spread inside his body when Thomas's fingers slid along his sides and over his chest, tracing the flat expanse. "I thought as much."

"Take it off," Thomas whispered between caresses. "So that I may appreciate you fully."

Jimmy leaned over to dab the cigarette against a glass ashtray he had bought for Thomas in Ripon. When he settled back, a small smile played against his lips. "Who's to say I'm completely, utterly bare beneath this?"

Thomas's breath caught, and he trailed a hand down, gently lifting the gauzy skirt and skating his fingertips along Jimmy's leg. Stockings.

The blond caught his lips (and attention, briefly) in a series of kisses, mouth parting to accommodate Thomas's own. They slid their tongues together, engaging in a vague battle for dominance. Jimmy breathlessly pulled away, biting Thomas's lower lip teasingly.

Thomas returned to his earlier ministrations, taking a handful of the dress and attempting to peer under the rows of lace. Jimmy swatted him away with laughter. "No, you wanker! You'll make me blush."

"'Wanker'? So unladylike." Thomas observed. He dodged another swat, smirking.

"I don't aim to be a lady. Just prettier," Jimmy pointed out, moving into a straddling position. The new angle allowed for the dress to sweep across his thighs, leaving a band of exposed skin. He raked his fingers through Thomas's dark hair, disheveling it with glee. "I love your hair when it's all fluffed out. Makes you look half-way human for once." He punctuated his words with a press of a kiss to the crown of Thomas's head.

"Suppose," Thomas practically purred up at him, "-we move this elsewhere?" His fingers grazed below to cup at the curve of Jimmy's backside, giving a suggestive squeeze.

Jimmy contemplated, his fingers moving downwards to outline Thomas's neck and shoulders, trailing further to unbutton his livery. As he started to help the other shrug off his dinner coat, he leaned in and murmured huskily, "I was thinking the desk."

Thomas groaned in response, his hands sliding up, then down from Jimmy's warm, exposed back to the ivory ruffles of the dress, privately desiring to divest the blond of it completely and just have him. 'But that would ruin the game.' Jimmy would surely chide him.

So he sat still, only shuddering when Jimmy's hand (quite talented, indeed) squeezed his thigh lightly, fingers dancing over the now-prominent bulge in his trousers. "My my, Mr. Barrow," Jimmy said in a low, reprimanding tone. "How ungentlemanly...how scandalous indeed."

That was all it took before Thomas connected his mouth

against Jimmy's, gathering him up into his arms and carrying him over to the wooden desk to set the smaller man down upon it. Thomas stood between his legs, which Jimmy hooked across his hips; a tight, delicious fit.

When Jimmy finally broke away for air, Thomas pressed a whisper of kisses against his flushed collarbone and slipped his hands under the dress to skirt them over the blond's knees and firm thighs. Rather than touching where the skin of Jimmy's erection would be, however, Thomas was met with a silken material. He glanced up with a judgemental arch to his brow, and Jimmy offered him a sheepish smile in return, wiping accumulated saliva away from his mouth with the back of a hand. "Go on, then," he encouraged with a roll of his hips. "-they're only underclothes."

Thomas pressed the heel of his palm against the flat of Jimmy's stomach, moving it down and discovering that oh yes, Jimmy was wearing a lady's unmentionables. Upon closer inspection, he discovered they were stark black with a white ribbon trim. He was uncertain as to whether he should laugh or cry or become even more aroused. The third option won him over for the time being.

"I cannot bring myself to believe you," he muttered against the offered crane of the blond's neck, gripping his erection in one hand, tracing his fingers along the hemline of the dress with his injured.

Jimmy arched into him, all breathless moans and slanted blue eyes. Thomas couldn't get over how alluring he was starting to find the whole situation. He had truly abhorred the idea at first; he figured he'd let Jimmy have his way with Lady Edith's nightie, as recondite as it was; assuming the first footman would grow bored of dressing up. But Jimmy had gladly proved his hypothesis wrong a few days later when Thomas walked in on him wearing naught but a pair of gloves and a gaudily scanty lingerie set. From there, Jimmy would treat him to a display each week, every article of clothing seemingly made to accentuate the curve of his neckline, his lithe figure, the narrow jut of his hips. Thomas appreciated the way Jimmy's wiry muscles would flex against the girlish clothes, how his masculine mannerisms overpowered the womanly material. Thomas bit his lower lip and hurriedly dismissed his wandering thoughts, focusing on pleasuring Jimmy. He squeezed and glided his fingertips up and down the younger male's cock, occasionally rolling his fingers under the other's testicles to elicit particularly pleasing noises.

The seated man rocked up into his hand, pace slowly growing in speed. "Yes-oh, yes please, oh Thomas-" He bunched up edges of the dress in his fists, squirming until he came with a soft, shuddering sigh.

The steady burn of desire settled into Thomas's abdomen as he watched Jimmy's expression transform from carnally lustful to listlessly spent. His gaze slid from Jimmy's flushed face to his chest, to down to between his legs, knowing that the lady's underwear was very likely damp with the blond's release. He idly fingered the buttons to his trousers as spikes of arousal prickled below his waist.

Jimmy sat, composed as he basked in his afterglow and smoothed out his dress with shaky hands. He looked at Thomas, chest heaving ever so visibly. "Care to have a go at me, then?" His azure eyes shone brilliantly.

Thomas pushed his trousers to pool around his ankles, an eyebrow quirked up. "You're ever the romantic, you are, the way you say such things."

"Please engage in coital affairs with me?" Jimmy tried, laughing. "Let us commence in fornicating with the utmost vigour?"

Thomas rolled his eyes and managed to curb a smile that threatened to appear.

Jimmy looked up through his lashes coquettishly, miserably failing to conceal his own half-grin. "Oh fine, then."

He lowered himself to the floor, leaning into Thomas for a brief spell, simply to enjoy the other man's existence. "It felt ever so nice," Jimmy pressed his lips to the cotton of Thomas's shirt. "The way you touched me," he clarified, but Thomas already understood perfectly. He understood because it felt ever so nice to touch Jimmy, to be the cause of his unfolding. His thoughts skirted over the word 'deflower' for a moment, and he touched his hand to the pleasant curve of Jimmy's cheek, musing that yes, 'deflower' suited the act he engaged the footman into.

"You're so restrained, though," Jimmy murmured, peering up at Thomas with an unreadable expression. He stepped away, allowing his fingertips to hover before sliding them down Thomas's stomach. Thomas swallowed thickly, restraining himself just as Jimmy said, and the blond dropped them to his sides.

Thomas closed his eyes, silently willing Jimmy to initiate further contact. All thoughts vanished from his stream of conscience when he heard Jimmy rooting around in his drawers. The sound of plastic twisting off glass caused Thomas blink, and he registered that Jimmy was smiling at him broadly, fingers smeared with the unmistakable translucent gel. He instinctively reddened.

"I took the liberty of getting myself ready for your grandiose arrival beforehand," Jimmy said, all casual tone and demeanor as if they were discussing the Parliament. "But let's get you all lacquered up, yes?" This must be the most ravishing conversation about the Parliament in the history of the world, Thomas thought. And I'm going completely mad.

He hooked his fingers under his long johns, laboriously tugging them down. Jimmy's slickly coated fingers were around his erection in a heartbeat, and Thomas bit back a moan, quickly ridding himself of his shirt.

If a year prior, had one felt the compulsion to inform Thomas that he would be standing stark naked with a man in a dress whom he was intimately involved with, Thomas would have sunk into the earth with ringing laughter.

However, he hardly found the time to dwell upon this moment of clarity when Jimmy was bending himself over the desk, chest to wood. He felt his whole face broil over with warmth. Steadily, Thomas ran his hands over the satiny fabric before him, slowly edging the hem of the dress up over Jimmy's hips; shimmying the tight fitting underwear to the male's thighs. He inhaled sharply, anticipating the moment of being inside Jimmy and enveloped with his heat.

He pressed himself over Jimmy's back, his lips touching the nape of his neck, and pushed in. Jimmy only gave a slight intake of breath and shuddered. Thomas began to draw back and forth, wrapping his fingers round Jimmy's hipbones for leverage.

"I'm not a girl, see," Jimmy muttered hoarsely over his shoulder, a faint blush stretched across his cheeks and nose. As if Thomas couldn't tell. "Do it rough, like. I can take it."

Thomas slid his hand to the small of Jimmy's back, pressing him down into the desk with force. The new angle allowed for him to fill Jimmy to the hilt. "Now that," Jimmy hissed, "-is what I mea-"

The blond cut himself off with a sharp gasp when Thomas thrust into him deeply, gripping his waist in a vice-like manner. A stack of worn books toppled over, hitting the floor in a series of soft thuds.

Jimmy's hands scrabbled for purchase, knocking bits of paper and boxes of candles to the side in order to grasp the edge of the desk as Thomas repeatedly slid into him, each time further and harder.

"Unh, mmm, yes," he moaned aloud, pressing back against and into Thomas. Each snap of Thomas's hips was accompanied by the faint rustling of Jimmy's dress, growing more rumpled by the second.

Thomas panted harshly by Jimmy's ear, thrusting in earnest now. A bubble of heat began to coil about his nether regions, causing him to accelerate his movements. Jimmy's legs quivered, prompting Thomas to pull him against his chest for support. They stumbled to the floor and managed to clamber atop the cot in one piece, Jimmy only losing a stocking in the process.

Thomas pushed into the pliant blond beneath him once more, the rough press of his hips onto Jimmy's surely chaffing against the blond's erection. All too soon the familiar uncoiling of heat rushed from his abdomen, and Thomas hastily abandoned his erratic rhythm, pulling out and grasping Jimmy by the backs of his knees.

"Wha-" Jimmy gave a soft grunt of protest when Thomas raised his legs. His scowl quickly morphed into a grin of Cheshire proportions, however. The footman arched up, the bends of his legs coming to rest against Thomas's shoulders, ankles crossed behind his back. Before Thomas could start to press into him again, Jimmy placed a hand to his chest. "Tell me things," he murmured. "Tell me what you're thinking when we fuck like animals."

"Ah," Thomas took on a pained expression, partly because of his need for release and the other half stemming from discomfort of the notion. He let out a ragged breath. "Must I?"

Jimmy settled back comfortably into the pillows, nodding. "It gets me off," he said, bluntly.

Thomas, unable to deny Jimmy of anything, gave a curt nod. "Right," he said, as if 'right' was a proper warm-up to the task. Jimmy was usually the talker, not him. He preferred it that way; even if he could put words to poetry, nothing of this earth could describe what he felt for Jimmy. _But then again he wants nothing to do with poetry_, Thomas reminded himself. _Just bloody dirty talk._

He gave a shallow thrust into Jimmy's entrance, leaning close to mutter, "I'm thinking of how desperate you must be for me."

"Yes," Jimmy agreed softly.

"And how I always am for you. Some nights," Thomas continued before he gave a pause, revelling in the way Jimmy moved against him, meeting his every thrust. "-some nights, I just want to have you right against the piano, the keys making beautiful music as you're pushed into them repeatedly, making you sing for me."

"Mmm, _more_ please," Jimmy answered, shallow gasps leaving his throat each time Thomas rutted up inside him.

"Yes, and letting you have your way with me; perhaps in a proper bed upstairs."

Jimmy writhed below Thomas wantonly, libidinously groaning at the images the raven-haired man brought to his mind.

"Or," Thomas whispered, simultaneously searching the depths of his mind for the big finale. He allowed for a smirk to surface along his features. "I imagine, mmmn, taking you in my mouth right outside in, ah, broad daylight..."

Jimmy babbled something in response, hips bucking up as he came, slurring out a, "Yes, Thomaspleaseohyes...!"

The under-butler bent his head low, picking up his pace. "Right...in front of...the whole...house!" He gasped out, a twitch wracking throughout his body before he released.

Jimmy whimpered, his legs limply slipping off from Thomas's shoulders to splay apart at his sides. Thomas pressed one last kiss to Jimmy's bruised lips before sinking into the mattress, utterly exhausted. After a moment, Jimmy rolled away from the cot and brought a hand to the front of the dress, untucking ribbons and unhooking the fitted bodice to slide out if it. A relieved sigh escaped him, and the blond slid under the covers, warm and naked against Thomas.

Thomas hummed softly and turned to face Jimmy, his cheek pressed against other's damp forehead, encircling his waist with an embrace.

"That was just marvellous, Thomas," Jimmy said and smiled, pressing a finger into Thomas's lips. Thomas, eyes still closed, absently kissed along the offered digit and made a 'hm' sound. He heard a faint rustling as Jimmy bent over to retrieve something from under the cramped bed.

"This matches your eyes," Jimmy murmured. "You'll do very nicely in it, indeed."

Thomas frowned and blinked said eyes open, catching sight of a pale, blue frilly dress and an exultant Jimmy holding it up.

He will never understand that man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Dresses are a Man's Best Friend Part Deux Pairing: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit m/m content; cross dressing**

**Notes: Well, a part II. I was very, very flattered/honoured with the responses for Dresses are a Man's Best Friend, so upon the fact that I left it open for a sequel, I took the opportunity! I also realise that it was most likely bad form to have published this as complete, then add a second chapter, arghh. Rest assured it is complete in its entirety now, unless I write a chapter with Alfred donning a dress. (Not very likely, haha!) It was incredibly hard to write for Thomas's POV at one part because...ah, well, you'll read about it. It came out a bit differently than I anticipated. I tried to integrate some requests within it, but forgive me if they aren't up to expectations! A big thank-you to GiGi Sinclair once more for the inspiration and the gorgeous Thomas/Jimmy stories! I wish I could marry your writing, I do! And with that, I bid you happy reading!**

"I've got something special planned tonight," Jimmy whispered, an added wink punctuating the teasing sentence as he carried a laden tray past Thomas. He disappeared up a flight of stairs.

Thomas looked after him helplessly, brow creased. He felt a mixture of worriment and delight stir within his body. Worriment due to the fact it was Jimmy, and that meant he could be up to anything. Delight because 'anything' would surely result in entangled limbs and shared pleasure.

Straightening his shoulders, he went about his duties with an inward smile.

* * *

Thomas walked through the kitchen, spotting Alfred and Jimmy- dawdling as usual. A flare of affection sparked in his chest as he watched Jimmy; the blond was so beautiful and cut. Sharp and lustrous, exactly like a diamond. And diamonds did not belong in kitchens.

He cleared his throat.

Alfred immediately corrected his posture, but Jimmy's carriage remained casual.

He sauntered out behind Alfred, casting Thomas a careless smile. Thomas's already stretched nerves were beginning to break- how relaxed Jimmy was- he didn't take his job as seriously as he should.

"He were flirtin' his eyes at me, Jimmy was," Ivy was babbling excitedly to another kitchen maid. "Isn't he so smart lookin' in his uniform, though?"

Moreso in a dress, Thomas thought with a little smirk.

Daisy looked up sharply from chopping celery. "Why don't you look smart for once and tend to your own duties?" she snapped, brandishing her knife threateningly, Patmore-style, at a trembling Ivy.

Thomas left before any blood was spilt.

* * *

Jimmy had long ago decided upon one sure fact- Thomas looked lovely in red.

While the colour was not implemented in their livery, he could certainly bring it out other, more creative ways.

As they sat down for lunch (Jimmy noted with irritation it was the second time he had to sit after Mr. Carson entered the room), he threw the under-butler simpering looks. Thomas would humour him by glancing his way every so often, but that was the extent.

Jimmy had made it a point to sit across from Thomas. The first reason was to avoid arousing suspicion over their covert (hopefully) relationship, the second being that he was allowed a nice view. And oh, he could extend his leg just so, enough to gently kick at Thomas's. Now was one of those times.

The under-butler warily gazed up at him from his conversation with Mrs. Hughes, meaning to discourage Jimmy with a frown. If anything, it exacerbated the blond's intentions.

He gave Thomas a slightly less gentle kick above the shin, eliciting a sharp gasp.

"Is anything the matter, Thomas?" Carson brooded him with a meaningful stare under his heavy brow, spoon poised in mid-air.

All chatter ceased as Thomas was looked upon expectantly.

"No, Mr. Carson," Thomas quickly responded, flicking his pale eyes toward Jimmy for a split second. "Just got a bit of a chill-ah!" He winced, cheeks flooding with warmth as he felt Jimmy's foot trail up his inner thigh.

"...ah?" said Mrs. Hughes, a touch of concern in her voice.

Jimmy stifled a snicker.

"Ah...choo," Thomas said, lamely. "I must be catching cold."

"Hm," Carson appeared doubtful as he glanced between Thomas and Jimmy. "Well, see that it is amended before it turns into something more... detrimental."

Thomas glared into his porridge, avoiding the servants' curious gazes, and forced out a, "Very good, Mr. Carson."

"Most curious sneeze I've ever heard," Bates muttered. Anna hid her grin behind a napkin.

Jimmy spent the rest of dinner talking to Alfred and ignoring Thomas's stares.

* * *

"What was that little act you pulled downstairs about?"

Thomas had Jimmy cornered in an otherwise unoccupied hall, expression revealing mild anger.

Jimmy glanced up at him, feigning innocence. "I've no idea what you're on about." He turned to close the door of one of the china closets (he had lost count).

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "Surely you're joking. Think it's funny making me the laugh of the day? You'll get a smacked bottom with that kind of prattle."

He hadn't meant his words quite so literally. Jimmy thought otherwise.

"Perhaps," the footman murmured, brushing a gloved finger from Thomas's sternum to the front of his trousers, "-I would like that very much."

He left, leaving Thomas akin to a blushing bride.

* * *

"Oh dear god," Thomas said, weakly. His ivory complexion was already stained crimson. "What a surprise indeed."

Jimmy merely laughed and lead him by his tie, tugging him to the small bed until the familiar press of Thomas's body was upon his own.

Thomas spread his fingers over starched lace overlaying crisp black fabric in disbelief. "How did you manage?"

Jimmy took the other man's warm hand, leading it lower to feel the swell of his erection beneath a thin layer of apron. "I've got my sources," he whispered, swiping his tongue along the pale column of Thomas's neck. "And knowing where the maids keep their extra uniforms helps."

"You're positively mad," Thomas breathed, before he proceeded to investigate the many secret allures of Jimmy in a maid uniform.

* * *

"Oh come off your high horse. It's fun."

"No. I absolutely refuse."

"Poor sport."

Thomas sat on the edge of his bed, tiredly unlacing his shoes. He placed them in a neat row under the cot, and contemplated a quick polish. It was past midnight and he felt no sense of amiability at this hour, not even for Jimmy. "I've said I refuse. That's the end of it."

Jimmy presented Thomas with an imploring stare. The under-butler barely met his eyes. Scowling, Jimmy shifted from his position of leaning against the yellowed wall and dropped to his knees in front of Thomas.

"You'd look lovely in one," he said, softly, resting his head between Thomas's legs.

"Hn." The other man answered, reaching back for a cigarette.

Jimmy busied himself and slid his fingers up Thomas's thighs, enjoying the firm play of muscles under his touch. Thomas paused in his search, his breath catching.

"You don't really carry a torch for me, do you?" Jimmy said, making sure his tone conveyed remorse. "It was all a complicated ruse, then."

Thomas gave him an exasperated glare. "Don't be so impetuous. It's unbecoming." His hands trembled as he fished a cigarette from the crumpled box.

"Oh, well...it works on the girls." Jimmy frowned, thoughtful.

"And I am not a girl, nor will I attire myself as one." Thomas finalized.

"Oh, have it your way, then," Circling both thumbs against either inner thigh, Jimmy leaned in to let a warm whuff of breath ghost the front of Thomas's trousers.

"Ah, Jimmy-" Thomas's cigarette made a minuscule thud as it hit the bedcovers. Thomas brought a hand to his mouth, unconsciously parting his legs a sliver.

"Mmm?" Jimmy hummed against the hard outline starting to jut from between the raven-haired man's thighs. "Did you say something?"

Thomas raised his uninjured hand to cup Jimmy's cheek, moving it to tangle in his neat blond curls. A pleasant warmth sent tendrils of arousal through his body. He slid a knuckle into his mouth, biting down hard when Jimmy's mouth, hot and wet and perfect, parted to slide over his clothed erection. Streaks of white heat flashed past his vision, and he watched the other's tongue lap up against the black fabric with slow strokes. "Yes- I mean no, hnn-"

Jimmy gave one last brush of his lips before he gently dislodged Thomas's hand from his hair and slowly stood, a crescent moon smile curved upon his mouth. Thomas ached to tug him down and make him finish what he started.

"Think about it, then?" Jimmy whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to the other man's heated cheek. "I'll be waiting."

He gave a neat bow, and was gone with a closing click of the door.

Thomas stared at his quivering hands and silently cursed.

Two could play at this game.

* * *

The shuffling clicks of cards intermingled with chords of various preludes and sonatas as Alfred straightened out the deck upon the worn table.

"Jimmy- shall I deal you in?" he asked.

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder, fingers stilling above piano keys. Strings of lingering notes still hung in the air, settling like dust upon the room. "Anything worthwhile at stake?"

Alfred's brows met in a furrow of confusion. "I ain't got but three shillings...are we playing spoil-five, then?"

"That'll do," Jimmy said, twisting around to stand.

Thomas, sipping at his nightly tea, broke in. "Don't waste your time, Alfred. James would rather display good sportsmanship than squander you out of your money."

Jimmy shot him a look of contempt. "And what of winning one's keep?"

"I do believe," Thomas replied evenly. "-that 'earning' is the correct term." He settled back into his chair, snapping a newspaper up to block Jimmy's glare.

"Nobody earns a game," Jimmy grumbled, but moved to take a seat by Alfred.

He lost both games, uncharacteristically.

Thomas glanced up from an editorial. "Maybe we should implement a dividend afterall. Alfred, what would you say is fair?"

"No fair!" Jimmy cried. "You were just going against the idea!"

Thomas regarded him placidly. "I'm against swindling, not deserving accolades."

"Pay up!" Alfred chimed in unhelpfilly. "Fair n' square."

"You're an...an ardent hypocrite, Mr. Barrow," Jimmy countered, reaching into his pocket. He begrudging gave a gleeful Alfred a handful of coins.

"A regular Robin Hood, he is!" Alfred said, grinning. He pocketed his spoils.

"James?" Thomas smirked behind a headline. "I believe you meant 'arduous'."

"Fuck off, you old codger," Jimmy muttered under his breath.

Thomas's smile widened.

No, I don't believe I will...

* * *

"You're to observe both Alfred and James tonight, as I must prepare for tomorrow's garden party," Carson informed Thomas before dinner was to be served Upstairs. He smoothed a piece of buttery-yellow paper (presumably a never ending list of tomorrow's preparations), and uncapped his fountain pen, the black ink fluidly seeping into parchment. "I'll make the adequate changes to fit his Lordship's tastes. Carry them out first thing in the morning."

Thomas gave a curt nod as he accepted the list, heavy in both weight and chores. "Yes, Mr. Carson."

A brief glance at the paper told him that Jimmy would have his hands full tomorrow. Good, Thomas thought. Let him polish and serve till he drops. He momentarily entertained the notion of giving Alfred the day off and leaving Jimmy high and dry, however, it would hardly go unnoticed or unspoken.

Tucking the folded paper into a pocket, Thomas made his way Upstairs to stand at his post by the table. He dug his nails into the his palm (four half-moon indentions) to keep from grinning unprofessionally.

Jimmy would get his proper dues tonight.

Lord and Lady Grantham took their respective places, joined by the Dowager Countess who clucked in affectionate disapproval over a presumably mundane statement Mrs. Crawley relayed. Thomas felt no source of compassion for the evening conversations, though he found no harm in catching them from time to time.

"...how terribly droll of him," Lady Mary was saying to her husband. "How could one leave such a splendid hunt because of a petty little..."

Thomas was unable to gather why Archduke So-and-So had to excuse himself from the exhilarating hunt as he watched the footmen enter the room in smooth movements.

When it came to serving, Jimmy was induced into a state devoid of anything but utter seriousness. His expression conveyed monotonous boredom as he expertly bent his waist forward, offering a plate of sautéed mushrooms.

Steady yourself, Thomas thought. He only hoped he would persevere in his plan.

As Jimmy made his way to the serving table, Thomas angled his body closer. "Such a tight little arse you've got there," he mumbled. The blond faltered with a serving spoon, barely managing to regain his grip in time. He glanced at the family- still chattering/tittering unknowingly- then up at Thomas with incredulous blue eyes. "Pardon?"

Thomas stared straight ahead, expression blasé. "Imagine us going at it- and right in front of his Lordship. Very licentious, no?" His mouth curved slightly.

Jimmy's sharp intake of breath was audible.

He stood, gaping at Thomas for a second longer before gathering another armful of plates and hurrying to serve.

Thomas caught his eye, and yes, Jimmy's face had blossomed into a rather attractive shade of scarlet. He wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Are you quite alright, lad?" Lord Grantham asked, examining Jimmy's flushed features. Jimmy straightened up, managing a tight nod. "Yes, your Lordship."

"Why, he resembles one of Mr. Moseley's prized tomatoes!" the Dowager observed. She leaned into the table conspiratorially. "Is the flu among us again?"

Jimmy blanched, and almost ran into Alfred on the way back to the table, muttering a brief apology (expletive).

As he reached for a dish of Boeuf Wellington, Thomas whispered with a purr, "Careful James, wouldn't want to spill all over and make a mess on the eighteenth century burr walnut, would we?"

Jimmy coughed, sending Thomas a desperate look. Thomas returned it with measured amusement in his eyes.

"I can't go over there, Thom-Mr. Barrow," Jimmy muttered, pretending to align the cutlery. Thomas raised a brow. "And why not?"

"Because...!" Jimmy managed to do the impossible and grew even redder. "You've...ah, gotten me out of sorts."

A quick glance below Jimmy's waist justified his claim. Thomas drew back, triumphant smile in place. "Well now, that seems to be a personal problem, wouldn't you agree?"

Before Jimmy could snap back an answer, Alfred rushed over to set down a platter of rolled bread. He glared at Jimmy. "Hurry up then- you're making me do all the busywork!"

"Um, right, sorry," Jimmy looked stricken as he fumbled for a plate. He excused himself to retrieve more food Downstairs, gait visibly awkward.

Thomas would have to observe more often.

* * *

Much to Carson's delight, the garden party was a splendid success.

As Jimmy traipsed from (and Alfred ducked under) tent to tent, tending to the lords and socialites and marquises, he couldn't help but admire the clear skies outlined by lush vegetation and fragrances, aflush with bright blooms that wound around the surrounding gardens.

Such a day was reserved for retribution.

If Thomas had decided to make a childish game out of their intimate interactions, then by God, Jimmy would be crowned champion.

"Here," he said, pushing a tray of emptied glasses into Alfred's hands. "I've an errand to run."

"But-" Alfred began, haphazardly balancing the glasses atop of a platter with Crepe Suzettes. He swivelled about, as if to find an excuse capable of anchoring Jimmy to his duty.

Jimmy waved a dismissive hand in the air as he walked away.

Throughout the course of the festivities, he had kept an eye out for Thomas to track his every movements. Such a task had proved to be quite manageable until he was forced into conversation with an elderly Countess who mistook him for her dead son.

Still suppressing shudders, Jimmy passed a garden shed and paused, spotting Thomas. The older man leaned against the side, evidently calming his nerves with a cigarette.

"Taking a breather, are we?" Jimmy sneered, gaining immense pleasure in the jolt Thomas took.

"Very funny. Y'made me drop m'fag."

Jimmy strode over, hands in pockets. "Quite a party," he mused aloud. "Pity we can't join in." A wry smile slid across his mouth. "We could have our own private party, though."

Thomas paid him no heed, staring at the ground as if the cigarette would suddenly roll into view. Jimmy pried his gaze away by blurting, "I think your game is stupid."

Thomas snorted. "Game? What 'game', Jimmy?" He glanced around before pantomiming a smack to his forehead. "Oh! That's right- the game where we don't finish the job and only tease, which leads to unhealthy frustration! That game!"

He widened his eyes in mock horror when Jimmy shoved him against the wooden side of the shed. "Why do people think this is intimidating? This is literally the most curious way to go about-"

"Shut up!" Jimmy hissed, fingers digging into Thomas's collar. "Shut up, you- you bleedin' bastard!"

Thomas couldn't keep the grin off his face. "Ohh, I see...you're more than frustrated, aren't you, love?" he asked, tone dropping to a soothing hum. "You're desperate for some sort of release, perhaps?" He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips into Jimmy's.

Jimmy sucked in a breath as the material of his trousers and underclothes brushed against sensitised skin. "I- yes," he moaned, pressing his face into Thomas's chest.

Thomas flicked his eyes back and forth, searching for any unwelcome eyes or ears. Sensing none, he slid his uninjured hand to the small of Jimmy's back, lifting his knee up flush between Jimmy's thighs. "Go on, then." His voice held hints of tender affection.

"Are- are you serious?" Jimmy asked, his trademark devious smile rather evident under incredulous blue eyes. "You're quite the depraved one today."

"And as for you...?" Thomas dared to inquire, eyes rapidly darkening into stormy skies of lust.

Jimmy leaned up to kiss Thomas deeply, fully. "Corrupt me, Mr. Barrow," he whispered against his lips, starting to rock into the man's offered knee in earnest.

Later, as they cleaned and tucked themselves up with familiar protocol, Jimmy looked Thomas in the eye. Thomas couldn't hold his gaze for long- it was very difficult when not moments before he had watched Jimmy come by rutting against his leg, an uninhibitedly beautiful sight.

"Maybe we should-"

"Yes, I agree!" Thomas cut in, starting to colour. Feeling much more agreeable, he allowed himself to nod whilst brushing a flaxen sprig of Jimmy's hair back into place.

Jimmy covered his fingers with his own hand, lowering Thomas's palm to plant a swift kiss upon it.

Thomas smiled tightly and looked down, resisting the urge to scuff his polished shoe against the ground like a shy child. "I suppose once won't hurt."

Jimmy beamed at him. "Careful- that's what they all say."

* * *

Brushing a hand through pomaded hair, Thomas paced throughout his room. His eyes shifted from the mirror atop his bureau to his clothes rack, finally settling upon the door. He sighed and repeated the action for the thousandth time.

He could barely work up the confidence to glance at the wretched pile of cloth on his bed. It was a (ridiculous) stark blue colour, cut (ridiculously) low with (ridiculous) frills that overlapped one another in a (ridiculous) manner to make a (ridiculous) skirt.

He was a man. He could prefer men and men (Jimmy, only Jimmy) who occasionally dressed as women, but he chose not to partake in the latter himself. It was awkward and embarrassing. Jimmy could pull it off; he was young and terrifically fit, but delicate and slight in frame. Thomas was approaching early-middle-age and while he was fit, it was not delicately nor terrifically so.

"Hell," he muttered, kicking and peeling off his clothes. He'd rather be done with it, the sooner the better.

Upon approaching the bundle of shimmery material, Thomas was horrified to find sheer stockings and a scrappy piece of lace meant to be utilised as underwear. He hastily tucked them under his pillow, blood darkening his cheeks. That boy was pressing his luck.

The dress wasn't so bad after all. It was rather a cerulean sky number, and against his alabaster skin, it complimented his pallor. The hem skirted just above his knees, fallalish, yes, and Thomas had to wonder where Jimmy managed to find such scandalous apparel when ankle-length was the fashion. Still, he couldn't help but admire the delicate stitching.

He was the bad part. He looked ridiculous (of course), all broad shoulders and the hair on his legs! Thomas frowned, starting to pull the loathsome material off his body.

A knock sounded softly, startling Thomas. Before he could ruck the dress over his shoulders, Jimmy stepped in, closing the door behind him with practised quiet. When the blond turned around and caught sight of him, an enormous grin alighted his features.

"Well, good evening Misses Barrow," he said, stepping forward. Thomas noted he was in his sleeping pyjamas.

Thomas ignored him, very self-conscience as he turned, struggling with the dress. "This is bollocks," he replied, gruffly.

"You look stunning, though." Jimmy's hands paused his in their ministrations, moving to smooth the dress back down, over his abdomen, his hips and knees. Thomas shifted away to sit upon his bed.

He fixed Jimmy with an annoyed look. "You're bollocks."

Jimmy snickered, amused. He joined Thomas on the bed- their bed- sitting so that their knees touched. "How about," he murmured, hand slipping up Thomas's thigh. "-how about we're bollocks together, hm?"

Thomas said nothing, but Jimmy noted a slight tremor to his leg.

He sat up, moving behind Thomas to squeeze his shoulders. "Don't be so impetuous," he mocked him, hands sliding lower, caressing along the older man's chest and stomach.

"A-ah, uhm," Thomas couldn't help but reach behind himself, his palms unsteadily clutching at Jimmy's knees for leverage.

"Mmm, Thomas," Jimmy whispered sultrily, running the blunt of his teeth along the shell of Thomas's ear. "I'm already hard."

Thomas hissed in a breath, tilting his head to press his lips against Jimmy's.

The kiss transitioned from soft and coaxing to breathless and wet when Jimmy pulled Thomas back by his hair, all tongue and parted lips. His fingers hooked around the hem of the dress, pulling it up, higher- higher to reveal thighs and hips.

"Now there," he moaned inside Thomas's mouth, lustily. "-there lies the envy of all of England."

Trying not to roll his eyes, Thomas tilted his lower torso up to achieve the desired effect; Jimmy's fingers skirted over his cock, squeezing it. A choked groan escaped his lips, and he arched into Jimmy's hand. "Hn..."

Jimmy rubbed his hand up and down, his fingertips fluttering along the head of Thomas's erection, teasing and it was becoming so unbearable- hot flashes swept throughout his core, leaving Thomas aching for more. When Jimmy tucked a hand under the folds of the dress, exploring his chest as he continued to stroke and squeeze along his cock, Thomas tensed.

"Jimmy," he ground out, suddenly overwhelmed with arousal. He turned, pushing Jimmy away. "Too much?" Jimmy asked, worriment creasing his brow.

"No- no, just...give me a moment," Thomas said, eyes shut tight. He exhaled shakily, attempting to gather and compose himself. "Alright."

He pressed Jimmy onto his back with a kiss, forearms coming to rest on either side of the blond's head. Jimmy squirmed beneath him, his fleece pyjamas rubbing against Thomas's stomach and Thomas felt the adamant press of Jimmy's erection.

Thomas reached down, drawing them down over Jimmy's hips and knees, gasping quietly when Jimmy's arousal pressed flush against his thigh. He gripped the white cotton of Jimmy's shirt, sliding it up to reveal his smooth, golden skin; damp and flushed- salty sweet in Thomas's mouth. He tended to a nipple until it pebbled under his tongue, then the other.

"Oh, Christ, yes," Jimmy whispered. "Hurry- help me get it off."

His words slid down Thomas's body like lava, inflaming his desire tenfold.

They struggled for a moment; Jimmy wrestling his shirt over his head and Thomas attempting to aid in its removal until Jimmy managed to (accidentally) elbow Thomas in the chin.

Staring at one another (Jimmy through the arm-hole of his shirt, Thomas with a woman's dress rucked up to his chest) the two broke out into side-clenching laughter.

"This is- just, absolutely ludicrous," Thomas gasped between chuckles.

"I'm so hard it hurts! Get this thing off me!" Jimmy mumbled, clawing at the fabric of his shirt.

Thomas smiled, rescuing Jimmy from the confines of his sleeping shirt to reveal a mess of blond hair and an indignant scowl to match. Of course he would be mad over his bloody hair, Thomas thought, threading his fingers through said flaxen locks and kissing Jimmy quite thoroughly, thank you very much.

He slid his mouth over Jimmy's jaw, trailing kisses along his neck, abdomen, stomach. Jimmy's buttery warm scent was intoxicating, and Thomas finally nosed his way past the blond tuft of hair between his legs to take Jimmy slickly in his mouth, feel the steady thrum of his pulse.

"Mmmnyes- like that, exactly like that," Jimmy groaned, wantonly. He arched his hips up just so, providing Thomas with ample space to suck and slide; working up a pleasurable rhythm along Jimmy's shaft.

"Wait- no more, please, wait-" Fingers tugged at his hair insistently, crackling the pomaded surface.

Thomas reeled back, balancing on the heels of his feet. "What?"

Jimmy lay panting, the accelerated rise and fall of his chest indicating his hammering heartbeat. He spoke in a mumble to the ceiling. "It's ah, better when you're inside me, so...-"

Thomas's eyes flickered from Jimmy's blushing features to his erection; hard and pink, pressed close to his belly. A flash of yearning prickled in his body and warmth crept across his face as he registered the full meaning. "Oh."

"Oh?" Jimmy propped himself up on an arm, eyebrows knit together.

"Right, I mean," Thomas said, quickly. He licked his lips- suddenly dry. "I'd like that very much."

"Good, fetch me the jelly jar then?"

"I-yes." Thomas rolled off of Jimmy to rummage around under his bed. His fingers closed around the familiar cylindrical shape and he returned to under the covers, silently relinquishing the jar to Jimmy.

He took a deep breath. "Do it so I can watch."

Jimmy shot him a questioning look, but remained smiling. "...alright."

When Jimmy tentatively pressed a slicked finger inside of himself, Thomas gave tight nod. "Good," he encouraged, softly. The very sight of it all was more intense than he always remembered- distracting, but pleasurably so. His breath hitched upon watching the addition of a second finger, even more so when Jimmy whimpered. "Move them a bit-" he instructed, breathlessly. "-yes, perfect, like that."

"Hell," Jimmy sighed on his neck, leaning forward monetarily to stamp a kiss against the valley between his collarbone. "I might not, mmm, last, y'know. I might come from just your voice."

Thomas shut his eyes tightly, repressing a moan as he kept himself still, unable to tear his gaze away as Jimmy's fingers slid in and out. They pressed deep inside, hot like fire, he imagined. He wanted- no needed more, much more. "Perfectly alright," he managed to croak out in a semi-calm tone. "I don't mind, just ah- set your own pace."

Jimmy twisted his fingers out and in, keeping in time with Thomas's breath rate. He curled them in tight, rubbing against _that_ spot. "Oh, there, yes- like this..."

"Uhn," Thomas gasped, fingers twitching and digging into the bed sheets.

Jimmy tapped his hip, so that Thomas looked up to stare at Jimmy- who was blushing furiously. He always grows quiet during this part, Thomas thought smugly. And then Jimmy's arms wound about his waist as he kissed Thomas with ignited desperation- channelling his desire and affection through the meeting and parting of lips. Thomas rocked against him steadily, trailing his good hand down to wrap around their erections.

"No, use- use the other," Jimmy bit out.

He did as he was told, pushing back his curiosity to placate the other's urgent tone. Bringing his injured hand down, Jimmy's fingers met his, rubbing the remnants of the petroleum jelly into his palm. "Do it, please." he said, softly.

Thomas obediently rubbed the length of his own cock with the roughly scarred surface of his palm, shuddering breaths escaping him with each stroke of his hand.

And then Jimmy was pushing him back until his shoulders touched the linens and sinking down until his arse was flush against Thomas's hips and Thomas was inside of Jimmy to the hilt, gloriously squeezed around that tight heat-

He was wavering between the delicate line of gripping Jimmy and just buggering his little body without stopping or remaining motionless long enough for Jimmy to adjust to him.

With mindful trepidation, Jimmy huffed out a shuddering breath, placing both palms along the heaving planes of Thomas's chest. His pupils were dilated- charcoal black engulfing his lovely baby blues- and the little shivers grew less symptomatic as he steadied himself.

Unable to help himself, Thomas gripped a hip tightly and said through bared teeth, "I...I need to move, oh please, I need to-"

Pressure was applied to his chest as Jimmy lifted himself, effectively cutting Thomas's words off by making him groan, instead. And the sensation was gone, then barely there before Jimmy was bearing down again, teeth grit and eyes closed, his golden eyebrows edging together in a crease of concentrated pleasure.

Thomas met him halfway with a stuttering thrust of his hips, almost coming alone from the very sight of Jimmy's softened cock beginning to swell once more. He trailed his fingertips along the warm, hardened flesh, taking immense pleasure in the desperate little sound Jimmy made and the way his chin dropped against his chest when he squeezed it.

"Good?" he asked, breathlessly.

A tight nod. A barely audible "yes".

They began a rhythm- Jimmy lifted his hips and Thomas slid back into him, simultaneously pumping.

But it wasn't enough.

* * *

As Jimmy sat astride Thomas, he had the not entirely unpleasant sensation of being full, filled to the very brim and then some.

The acute feeling was lessened, however, when Thomas was suddenly grabbing his wrists and holding them pinned above his mussed blond curls, grip titanium-strong. He loomed over Jimmy, rather animalistic in the manner he breathed- harsh pants of air.

"You...I- I can't help it," he growled, and with a brutal roll of his hips, began to build up a hard tempo that rushed both the breath and thinking out of Jimmy.

Sharp blurts of pleasure racked throughout his core with each delivered thrust; Thomas pinned his aching hips down, as if he were striving to go deeper and-

"Ah, ah, _ah_...!" Jimmy moaned, the high-pitched wail foreign to his own ears. A hand fumbled for his cock, slickened and throbbing, grasping it and rubbing up and down, up and down.

Vaguely, he felt Thomas's lips moving against his brow, muttering a litany of gibberish strung together by breathless grunts. "Tight- oh, I cannot, I need- sorry, yes, ah..."

Too soon, a slow white film settled behind Jimmy's eyes as he gave himself over, sucumbbing and reaching his peak, coming harder than he ever had in his life.

And Thomas was still moving roughly into him, gasps audible as he felt Jimmy contract, giving all he had with the last few slams before his hips stuttered to a stop, still attempting to drive himself deeper with shallow movements, his release now within a very worn-out Jimmy.

He collapsed, then, barely managing to avoid crushing Jimmy.

* * *

Rolling on his back, Thomas stared at the ceiling, too deeply ashamed to remain content. He turned on his side.

"Jimmy, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologise, you dolt."

Speechless, he watched as Jimmy's mouth curved into a familiar smile. "But I-"

"Was amazing? Mmhmm," the blond hummed, reaching to retrieve his post-coital smoke. Thomas immediately noticed the slight wince that Jimmy played off as stretching.

"I hurt you!"

"Nonsense!" The chink of metal was heard, then the thoughtful inhale followed. "You gave me a wicked lovebite or two. Nothing too scandalous."

"Jimmy," Thomas warned, but the cigarette, warm from Jimmy's mouth, slid into his own.

"We should both wear dresses while we bugger next time," Jimmy mused.

The cigarette dropped from Thomas's open mouth.

**Finis**


End file.
